


A bard that smells as sweet.

by Toss_a_coin_to_your_daddy



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Lambert Being a Little Shit (The Witcher), M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Scent Kink, Service top lambert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:14:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25260691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toss_a_coin_to_your_daddy/pseuds/Toss_a_coin_to_your_daddy
Summary: The prompt was Lambert/Jaskier scent kink, so this it's what happened. This is just shameless smut y'all. Enjoy
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert
Comments: 16
Kudos: 165





	A bard that smells as sweet.

It was a long winter coming. Lambert knew from the moment the doors opened and that scent hit him that things were going to be different, and a lot more complicated than before. Winter was a time to relax, a time to shoot the shit with his brothers and a time to be himself. He hated being on the path, hated this shit lot that life handed him, but he looked forward to winter where he didn't have to worry about fucking humans looking at him funny.

Then Geralt had to bring his funny little bard with him. He claimed they were 'just friends' But the bard's scent was all over him. A cloying smell of wild flowers and over ripened wine. An undercurrent of dusty tomes and even the faintest smell of ozone after a hard rain in the summer, and how the fuck does a person smell like that?! 

He must have commented on it one to many times, like he often does about things he doesn't understand. He had the gift to offend and never knew when to shut up. Every time he'd pass the bard he'd wrinkle his nose, or make a passing jib about "What perfume you wearing today flowerpot?" Or "Swear what's a man gotta do to get some fresh air around here?" The bard would narrow his eyes, and stick his nose in the air at the comments, and Lambert would smirk, satisfied with himself. 

It was now a few weeks into winter and he'd slowed a bit on most of the barbs he flung the bard's way. He actually was kinda starting to like him, although he'd never admit it. The way the bard danced around them putting a smile on Eskel's face, made jokes that even got old Vesemir to laugh, and could even go toe to toe with him in an insult war. He'd admit to growing a bit fond of him too, but not out loud.

Tonight, the bard had not come down to dinner, claiming a headache or some other human ailment, and Lambert was honestly feeling a little like sulking without his new friend to exchange banter with. Geralt and the others also seemed off, all eyes kept straying to him throughout the meal before he finally snapped at them with a barked "What?!"

"Nothing Lamb, you're just sulking, didn't know the bard meant that much to you…" Eskel smirked and Geralt snorted into his tankard of ale. 

"What are you talking about? I don't care about him." He denies and Geralt rolls his eyes.

"Sure pup." He rumbles and Lambert gives him a glare.

"Well, it would be good of someone to bring him something to eat. Can't have him go hungry." Vesemir comments and shoves a plate of food in Lambert's direction.

"Why me? He's Geralt's guest." He growls.

"Because these two are helping with a repair in the Southern hall, got a bad patch of wall that needs fixed yesterday. Boys." Vesemir says and stands and Geralt and Eskel grumble as they rise as well.

"Great." He bemoans, but honestly isn't too broken up about it. Fixing the wall sucks ass, but he's leary why he's being let off the hook so easily. 

He gathers the plate and a glass of water and makes the trek to the bard's room. He knocks loudly on the oak door but gets no response.

"Perfect… Hey! I'm coming in, you better be decent!" He calls and shoves open the door to find the room empty. "What the fuck?" He questions and sets down the food with an annoyed huff.

He looks around the room, the sheets are still made, and the bard's lute sits carefully on the chair by the bed. He'd almost guess the bard hadn't been here in a while… 'Maybe the idiot got himself lost', he thinks, when he notices a piece of parchment sitting on the pillow. Something weird about it, maybe it's placement or the crisp crease like it's a folded note rather than something he'd write his bardic musings on. He drew closer and in beautiful scrawling handwriting was his name on the outside.

"Fuck." He grumbled this was a trap, he just knew it. He picked up the paper and the smell was intoxicating, that almost sticky red wine smell made him almost dizzy, the flowers and rain hitting him like a brick over the head. 

He shook his head and flipped open the paper. A poem. A fucking poem was inside.

'This is a piece,  
A part of me.  
The petals of roses,  
The aroma of dreams.

You wish to seek,   
What you can not find.  
But there is a place,  
Our bodies can entwine.'

Come find me.

He stares at the paper in his hand for a long moment, and thinks. Was this some sort of prank? Some way to get back at him for before? And were the others in on it too? He goes to the door and wrenches it open expecting to see them all waiting to laugh at him but no ones there. He still doesn't trust it. 

He sits on the edge of the bed, desire to crush the paper into a wad and forget this ever happened, wants to overwhelm him but... there's a part of him, a much louder voice in his head that's screaming at him to go get what's *his*. 

He thinks back to their interactions, the bard was always throwing playful winks his way more recently, brushing by him in places it didn't seem necessary to be 'that' close given the size of the keep. He even purposely sat next to him at dinner, thighs and shoulders brushing, fingers grazing over his as he reached for a roll. 'Those were all just coincidences though!' he wants to protest the voice he's being played by a bard and he was going to be made a fool! 

But without even registering his actions he gripped the paper a bit tighter, and brought it up to his nose, taking in the intoxicating scent. He could smell the lust on the page, as if the bard were right here, and damn if he knew a person who could fake that, not even a whore being paid could fool him like this.

"Alright, I'll bite." He says to nobody and folds the letter once more and puts it in his breast pocket. He inhales deeply as he walks out of the room, his eyes closed and he catches the scent of Buttercups and lavender, vaguely floating down the hall.

He follows it down the stairs back to the main hall, and out of his own mistrust he still harbors goes off to the South corridor. Banging and cursing, and even a bit of laughter is heard. So the repair wasn't a lie, at least there's that, he doesn't let that realization fill him with any hope from this though. Even if the bard had just gotten lucky to choose the right time for this it could still be a prank, one he'd pay for dearly.

He went back to the dining hall and stopped, scenting the air again and caught the unmistakable floral again, following it. It winded through the keep, and at one point he thought he lost it completely when he caught a new whiff and a far off laugh that was unmistakably Jaskier.

"Got you now, pretty bard." He growled and set off at a jog in the direction of the sound.

He was surprised how far up the spiral staircase the man's scent led. He felt dizzy with it as he was hit in the face over and over with red red wine. He shook his head and realized the smell had drifted off down a hall away from the stairs. He only vaguely registered his location as he followed his nose, and stopped at the closed door of his own bedroom.

He hesitated, his hand hovering over the handle before he growled at himself and barged in, it was his room after all.

"Alright bard, where are you…" He yelled as he looked around but no one was there.  
"Huh, go figure…" he groaned just as the door shut behind him with an audible click of the lock. He really had to pay better attention, he chastised himself as he saw from the corner of his eye, the bard revealed himself from behind the closed door. 

"Took you long enough." Jaskier purred as he approached, not unlike a prowling animal. His doublet was long gone, only clothed in a cream colored chemise, the puffy sleeves rolled up to his elbows, front laces open wide and showing a thick thatch of enticing chest hair, and was tucked loosely in a pair of dark blue trousers. He wore no boots, and that's bold of him to assume he'd be welcome to stay, but Lambert couldn't even form words to question him, let alone kick him out as the bard sidled right in his space.   
"Something wrong?" He asked, blue eyes searching as he leaned impossibly closer, their bodies just a breath away from touching. 

"Fuck." He growled, all other coherent words or thoughts having left him before he was grabbing the bard by the shirt and smashing their lips together. Jaskier moaned filthily against his lips, taking the opportunity to wrap an arm around his back and brought their bodies together. He ground their hips together with delicious pressure, punching a groan out of the witcher's chest. "Mmm, how long lark?" He asks against his lips, and Jaskier just moans, taking advantage and forcing his tongue between his lips to deepen the kiss.

"Shut up and fuck me." Jaskier demands and Lambert goes a bit light headed as all the blood rushes to his now rock hard dick.  
He growls, pulling away from the bard's lips and in one powerful swoop lifts him off his feet. The other wraps his legs around his waist as he dives for the space between his neck and shoulder, planning to bury his nose there for as long as he's able. "Take me to bed witcher." Jaskier husks lowly in his ear and he obeys, taking the few quick strides to the bed and promptly drops the bard on the unmade sheets. Jaskier lounges back, his legs spread wide, a dark look in his ocean eyes and Lambert nearly pounces on him, attacking with lips and teeth. Hands tearing and pulling at fabric, till there's only miles of supple pale skin beneath him, and he buries his nose in the thick chest hair there. 

He inhales deeply, letting the scent of the bard intoxicate him. "Gods, you smell delicious." He growls, biting at his surprisingly toned chest. Everything about the bard surprised him, why shouldn't this. For a man who pals around with his brother all year he should have guessed the man was hiding secrets. Like the built up legs from walking everywhere, as he glided his rough hands up them, squeezing at his thighs drawing a gasp as he drew nearer all the while to his crotch. Nestled in an obscene amount of thick dark hair, the bard's velvety cock stood proud against his stomach. He wiggled his hips and smirked when Lambert looked up at him. Well if he was going to play like that…

He trailed bites all over the bard's chest and stomach, as he moved down the bed, nosing his way past the lighter dusting of hair at his navel, following the prominent hip bones like a map to his prize. His lips quirk as he hears the stutter of the others heart, beating a wild staccato on his chest. He grasps the base of the rather pretty cock and enjoys the hiss he receives at the touch. "Fuck Lambert…" Jaskier groans, still propped up on an elbow, dark eyes watching intently as he starts a lazy stroke of his hand. 

"You like that lark?" He says, and Jaskier gives him a petulant look that confuses him.

"I'd like it a lot better if you put that mouth to good use- oh fuck!" he cries as Lambert licks a stripe the length of him, his head falling back into pillows.

"So impatient." He breathes, continuing to lick and suck kisses into the head, the bard moaning loudly, that turned into a keening cry as he took him into his mouth fully. He sunk his mouth on the whole of him, he hadn't done this in a while, not having seen Aiden for a time and the bard was anything if not impressive, but he managed. 

"Gods Lambert your mouth." Jaskier moaned, knuckles white as they gripped the sheets. The sight does something to him. He made the bard look like this, gasping with his hands fisting the sheets, a sheen of sweat making his body shine in the warm light of the fireplace. But he wants more, so much more. 

His hands wandered, fingers pressing into creamy thighs spreading them more for him and Jaskier so pliant under his touch went easily. One hand cupped his balls, massaging and tugging lightly as he rolled them in his hand, Jaskier's resounding groan was answer enough to know he liked it. His thumb, following the seam of them and behind, he gives the intimate area a firm stroke and the bard bucks wildly at the pressure there, and he had to move away a little, only half expecting it. 

"Shit, sorry." Jaskier gasps, and Lambert merely hums continuing his ministrations, placing a firm hand on the bard's hip as a warning. "Fuck, you know what you're doing..." He sighs and Lambert smirks as much as he's able with a cock in his mouth.

Aware but not reserved he keeps going, and the bard shudders beneath him as his fingers deftly graze over his hole. After minutes of this teasing and the other man writhing beneath him he pulls away, Jaskier's whine fills the room and he finally peeks an eye open, having been screwed shut in pleasure.

"Gods, why'd you stop?" He says out of breath, and Lambert only moves away a bit more, on his knees and reaching for the bedside table and opening a small drawer, where he procures a vial of oil from. "Oh… yea, that's a good enough reason." He pants and Lambert returns to him, but he doesn't sink back into the same position as before. 

Instead his hands find Jaskier's hips, leaving the lubricant to the side but within reach. He strokes his skin, fingers digging into the softness of his belly, before settling over his harsh hip bones, grasping harder and Jaskier gasps at the feeling before he's flipped with ease, letting out an 'oof' into the pillows. Large hands grasp the bard's slim waist, pulling and pushing his legs into a better position and Lambert gives an appreciative hum when he gets with the program, shifting up to his knees, and wiggles his hips, his ass on full display and Lambert can practically hear the smirk the bard must have.

'Think again little lark.' He thinks to himself, and grabs the round, firm globes of his lovely bottom and Jaskier gives a muffled groan, face and shoulders falling down into the pillows. He eyes the vial of oil, but he decides he's not done tormenting the bard just yet. With a smirk, he moves closer, sharp teeth sinking into one of the bard's pale cheeks and Jaskier let's out what can only be described as a howl from the bite. 

Lambert let's up, kissing and licking the offended spot in apology, his mouth trailing further inward, his hands grasping and spreading his cheeks where he licks a hot stripe over his hole. The man shivers beneath him, his name falling from the bard's lips like a prayer that spurs him on.   
He keeps going, obscene noises from both men fill the room, Jaskier's loud moans drowning out the sloppy slurping from Lambert's tongue. He can't seem to get enough of the smaller man, when Jaskier's thighs start to quiver and shake, his voice hoarse and broken on his cries for 'more' and 'please, yes'. 

He pulls away, much to the dismay of the bard who whines pitifully, and he sits up on his knees, leaning his body to cover the man's back. "Can't have you coming before I'm in you lark." He purrs in his ear and Jaskier nearly collapses further into the bed at the heated promise. 

"This is not how I pictured this going… But fuck don't you dare stop." Jaskier huffs and Lambert grins, nipping his earlobe as his hand finds the oil. 

"Oh yea? How did you see this going?" He whispers, hand now slicked up and swiping over his spit slick skin from his mouth, gently probing. Jaskier pushes back with a needy whine but Lambert merely grips his waist with the other arm, preventing him from thrusting back for more. "Ah ah, use those pretty words of yours bard." He grins and Jaskier groans as the only thing he feels is more teasing.

"Fuck… I wanted to do this for you…" Jaskier says in a rushed rough whisper and Lambert's hand stills and the bard takes advantage, pushing back on his hand and letting out a gasp as he gets what he's been wanting, but it's only for a second before Lambert gets back with it. He pulls away completely and swats the bard on the ass receiving a punched out groan. "Oh shit, yes…"

"Hmm, making note of that… Go on." He encourages, passing a hand over the reddened skin to soothe as he goes back to teasing.

"Wanted, ah…. Wanted to make you feel good. I know when someone wants me… ooh more…" he moans through it as Lambert finally gives him a crooked finger. 

"You could tell?" He drawls as he stretches the man beneath him and he can hear the smirk in his reply.

"Yea… You can smell it on me, but all I have to do is look at you… Your lips spill biting words but your body language says it all…" Jaskier sighed.

"And what does it say right now?" He rumbles as he presses his hard cock against the back of the bard's thigh.

"Fuck if you don't give me that cock right now I'm gonna-" he moves his hips back again searching and Lambert just grins.

"You'll get it soon enough." He chuckles darkly, his fingers delving deeper and making the bard cry out as he finds his prostate. 

What he's not expecting is the bard to retaliate. Instead of pushing back for more the man moves swiftly away, looking over his shoulder with a glint in his eye is the only warning Lambert gets before he's nearly tackled backward, his back hitting the bed with a resounding oof of air from his lungs, and Jaskier climbs over his legs, pinning his arms on either side of his body. 

Jaskier's eyes alight with a fire within as the witcher doesn't attempt to buck him off, they both know it'd be easier than breathing for him, but Lambert just lifts a brow in challenge at the bard.

"And I said, I want it now." He rutted their erections together, and Lambert groaned at the friction on his neglected cock. Jaskier smirked at him, squeezing his wrist before letting go. "Behave." He says, grabbing the oil at their side and slicks up his hand liberally before grasping both of them, stroking quickly. 

Lambert closes his eyes, lost in the feeling for a moment, before Jaskier's weight shifts further up to his hips, and guides his cock into him. He restrains himself, but only just as the slow heat engulfs his cock. His free hand instantly grabs for the bard's waist, his grip so hard he thinks vaguely that it might bruise and the idea of leaving marks on the other man sends a thrill down his spine and his hips do jerk a little making the bard groan. 

"Hmph… you're so big Lamb…" Jaskier's voice is rough and husky and Lambert wants to hear more of it like this. The sweet tenor reduced to guttural moans and scratchy cries, all the while knowing it was because of him. Fully seated the bard rotates his hips, his eyes closed as he savors the feeling of being full before rising up to spear himself again. 

They both groan as Jaskier begins to ride him. Lambert tugs his other pinned hand from Jaskier and places it on his hip and Jaskier hums appreciatively, letting him help steady him. 

"Fuck…" Lambert hisses, his fingers digging bruises into his hips, siding across skin to cup his ass cheeks in his palms and holds him up, slightly suspended and Jaskier whines as he struggles to get more. "Don't worry, you'll get what you want." He says through heavy breathes, and anchors his feet on the bed and drives up into him.

The resounding howl of pleasure Jaskier let's out at that would never be secret from his brothers, but fuck if he cares, hell he wants them to hear even. Hear how the mouthy bard is crying his name to the rafters. It's a possessive thought, one he couldn't normally afford to have, but here in the only place he'll consider himself safe if not his actual home because he doesn't have that anywhere, he'll allow himself to enjoy this, want this. 

"Fuck Lambert I…" Jaskier's loud moans bring his mind back to the present, and how could he be anywhere else at a time like this? 

"Yea, Lark. You gonna cum for me? Come from just my fat cock in you alone?" He growls the question and thrusts harder than before, punching a groan out of the other as he sways on top of him. "I know you will, going to fill you up good." He promises and with a few more hard and fast thrusts Jaskier's eyes roll back, his mouth falling open as he cums looking fucking beautiful. Lambert smirks as the bard's cum covers his chest, and he grinds himself into the man as he cums too, Jaskier tightening on him as he rides out his orgasm and if it isn't the best orgasm he's had in ever. 

His hands slip from Jaskier's body, and the smaller man finally collapses on top of him, giving only the barest hint of a grimace at the puddle of cum now smeared on both of them.

"That was…" Jaskier pants into his neck and Lambert strokes a warm hand on this back with a hmm. After a long couple moments of silence other than their harsh breathing Jaskier turns his face to him, sweat on his brow sticking his hair to his forehead, looking boyishly cute. Lambert looks away, not about to admit his thoughts on Jaskier's appearance, but he still catches the upturn to the bard's lips as he leans in closer, waiting for him to say something.

"What?" He asks sharply but with no bite to it.

"Nothing." Jaskier grins wider, and makes a show of sniffing the air, Lambert raising a brow at him. "Just that you're going to smell like me for probably a week after this." He says smugly and Lambert's eyes go a little bit wide at the realization and truth to that statement. 

"Fuck." He mutters and Jaskier's laugh rings throughout the keep. And the bard was unfortunately right, as his brother's teased him mercilessly for smelling like perfume for the following week, but whenever he caught Jaskier looking at him with that hungry look in his eye it made it all worth it.


End file.
